


Vengeance Is Hollow

by skywalkersamidala



Category: A Courtesan of Rome (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, but at least for now things are all right, i don't want to say "happy" ending because history dictates it can't TRULY be one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 14:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17123027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkersamidala/pseuds/skywalkersamidala
Summary: In the wake of Caesar's assassination, Antony turns up at Aemilia's door and Aemilia discovers she doesn't enjoy her vengeance as much as she thought she would.





	Vengeance Is Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> If you've been following me on tumblr then you know I'm a Roman history major and have spent a couple years now consumed by an inexplicable and undying love for Mark Antony, so imagine my delight when a game I'd started playing last summer released a book set in ancient Rome that includes Antony as a romanceable character :) so shoutout to ACOR for giving me an excuse to write essentially self-insert fanfiction about my historical crush lmfao
> 
> Some backstory: currently in ACOR it's 50 BCE and in this fic it's 44, so several years have passed and Aemilia (MC) and Antony have been in soooome sort of relationship for most of that time. Antony and Caesar are co-consuls in 44 (the consul was the highest political office of the Roman Republic). Also Antony bought Aemilia a fancy villa and she lives there now with Syphax still as her bodyguard. I hope Antony doesn't seem OOC, I tried my best to stick to ACOR's characterization but it's hard for me to separate ACOR!Antony from all the Thoughts i already had about the real historical figure.
> 
> Also some backstory about my MC, I've been picking most of the softer/gentler dialogue options and playing her as someone who's starting to realize that maybe vengeance isn't all it's cracked up to be, and in the latest chapter she said that she regretted killing Tribune Rufus and I think she said something along the lines of "vengeance is hollow," and I really liked that idea so I ran with it in this fic

**The afternoon of March 15, 44 BCE**

Aemilia was practicing the cithara when she heard a commotion in the atrium of her villa. Setting the cithara aside quickly but gently, she hurried to see what was going on.

Antony was there, out of breath and looking furious and distraught in equal measure. Syphax seemed to be just as furious and distraught by his sudden intrusion. “Consul Antony, I won’t allow you to see Aemilia in this state—”

_“You_ won’t allow it? I’m the one who bought this damn house, I can enter it whenever I please,” Antony snarled.

“It’s fine, Syphax, he won’t hurt me,” Aemilia said as Syphax opened his mouth to retort. Both men turned to look at her in surprise, apparently having been too busy with their argument to notice her arrival. “Antony, what’s happened? Are you all right?”

Then Syphax moved slightly to the side, and she realized that by “this state,” he hadn’t only meant Antony’s emotional state. He was covered in blood, all over his hands and spattered down the front of his consular toga.

“What—did you kill someone?” Aemilia gasped.

“Unfortunately not,” Antony said shortly, pushing past her and going towards the wash basin at the far end of the atrium. He splashed some water on his face and began rinsing his hands, trying to get all the blood out.

Aemilia exchanged an alarmed look with Syphax. What in the name of the gods was going on?

As Antony continued scrubbing at his hands, Aemilia tilted her head slightly at Syphax to say _Please give us a moment alone._ She knew Antony would be much more likely to talk to her by herself.

In return Syphax gave her a look that clearly said _I’m not leaving you alone with him when he’s like this._

Aemilia narrowed her eyes. _Syphax. Now._

They’d known each other for so many years and had so many silent conversations like this in front of Aemilia’s patrons that Syphax couldn’t fail to take her meaning, so at last he sighed and left the room, though not before shaking his head at her in a clear don’t-say-I-didn’t-warn-you gesture.

Aemilia approached Antony cautiously, a little warily, like one might approach a wounded wild animal that could just as easily bite one’s hand off as accept one’s help. He’d always been volatile, yes, but she’d never seen him like this.

It was then that she realized he was crying. “Antony?” she said softly. “Tell me what happened. Please.”

He looked up at her, grief and rage warring in his eyes. “Caesar,” he said. “Caesar is dead.”

Aemilia could only stare at him. For so many years she had dreamed of hearing those words. Had imagined the triumph, the savage joy she would feel when they were finally spoken. Yet now she felt only shock, and as the shock began to fade away…nothing.

“Caesar’s dead,” she repeated.

“Those bastards, those _traitors_ killed him,” Antony said. “Brutus and Cassius and their followers.”

Cassius. Aemilia felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Cassius had been involved in a plot to kill Caesar, and he hadn’t told her about it. Hadn’t trusted her with the information, even after all the time they’d spent discussing their shared dream for a Rome free of Caesar. Perhaps he thought she’d become too close to Antony and could no longer be trusted.

Perhaps he was right. Because as much as she hated Caesar, she hated the look of anguish on Antony’s face even more.

“In the middle of the senate house,” Antony was rambling on. “Some of them held me up outside, and by the time I got past them and went inside, it was too late. He was lying there at the base of Pompey’s statue, they were all standing around him with knives—there were so _many_ of them—and I ran to his body to see if he could be saved even though I knew he couldn’t—there was blood everywhere, so much blood and—”

He suddenly knocked the bronze washbowl off its stand, and it hit the marble floor with a clang. “I should have been there,” he said loudly. “I should have been there to protect him, I should have—”

“If they detained you on purpose, then there’s nothing you could have done,” Aemilia interrupted. “It’s not your fault, Antony.”

Antony finally turned to face her, glowering. “I suppose _you’re_ pleased,” he snapped. “For all I know you were involved in it behind my back, you and Cassius—”

“I wasn’t,” she said, calm but firm. “I swear to you, I knew nothing of this. Cassius didn’t confide in me.” _Why would he, since I chose you over him? Since I spend almost every night in your company? Since I’ve accepted countless gifts and favors from you, since I live in a villa you bought for me?_

She knew, she’d always known, that becoming so close to Antony was as good as declaring herself loyal to Caesar. But she’d never been able to stay away. When they were fucking it was easy enough to ignore who he was, who they both were, to ignore the fact that they should hate each other and be on opposing sides. Aemilia had always sworn to herself that while she might ignore it at times, she would never allow herself to forget it.

Yet here she was.

There was a moment of heavy silence. “I grieve with you,” she said diplomatically.

Antony snorted. “Spare me your simpering lies,” he said. “I know it was your dearest wish to see Caesar dead.”

“Well, spare _me_ your false tears,” Aemilia said, her temper flaring up. “I know _you_ had no love for Caesar, you only loved the power he gave you. Now that he’s dead you’re the most powerful man in Rome.”

“Caesar was like a father to me!” Antony shouted. “Of course I loved him!”

He sank to the ground, sitting with his knees drawn up and his head in his hands. Aemilia sat down beside him and placed a cautious hand on his shoulder. After a long moment, he looked up at her. “Everything I am, I am because of Caesar,” he said quietly. “Were it not for him, I would be nothing.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it?” Antony gave her one of those looks that made her feel like he was looking right past all the walls and layers of deception she’d put up, looking straight into her very soul. “And you, who would _you_ be if not for Caesar?”

Aemilia laughed humorlessly. “I would be a free woman in Gaul, the daughter of a chief.”

“Rome would have invaded Gaul eventually,” Antony said, waving his hand dismissively. “If not Caesar, someone else would’ve done it. What I meant was, who would you be without your all-consuming quest for vengeance? Or rather, who _will_ you be now that Caesar is dead and your vengeance is accomplished?”

The thought gave Aemilia pause. For fourteen years she had thought of nothing but vengeance, nothing but Caesar’s death. And now he was dead. What was left for her to do? What goal was there to pursue?

Who was she without Caesar?

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted, so softly it was almost inaudible.

“Exactly,” said Antony. “Caesar has made us both who we are, whether we like to admit it or not. And now with him gone, both of us are adrift.”

As Aemilia looked at him, she realized that vengeance wasn’t _all_ she had thought of for the past fourteen years. “Why did you come here?” she asked.

“Caesar had just been murdered by his own colleagues in broad daylight, and as one of his staunchest supporters, I feared for my life.”

“Yes, I understand that. But why _here?_ Why did you come to _me?”_

Antony looked at her, his expression almost puzzled, as if he’d simply run right to her villa without even thinking about it. “Because…I suppose it was because I have come to think of this place as a safe haven,” he said, and if he were anyone other than Marc Antony Aemilia would have sworn he was blushing. “A place where the outside world doesn’t have to exist, if only for a little while.”

Aemilia gave him a small smile. “I feel the same way,” she said. “You see? We are not adrift. We are anchored when we’re together.”

Antony didn’t respond, but she could feel some of the tension leave his body. “Does it feel as you thought it would?” he said a little while later. “Caesar being dead.”

“No,” Aemilia said. “It feels…empty. Hollow. Such is the nature of vengeance. You spend years dreaming of it, and once you’ve achieved it, there’s very little satisfaction to be found.” She sighed. “It’s as you said. Caesar was only one man. If he hadn’t conquered Gaul, someone else would have. Caesar’s death doesn’t bring back my home or my family.”

Antony nodded. “I feel an obligation to avenge _his_ death, but…”

“Don’t,” she advised. “I promise you, it’s not worth it. Pardon the conspirators instead. You’re the consul, it’s up to you to decide how to proceed. You have the power to make peace.”

He glanced sideways at her. “You only say that because you want Cassius’s life to be spared.”

“Well, that is part of it. But mostly I’m tired of war,” she said. “Peace is what Rome needs.”

“Peace…” Antony said the word as if he hardly knew what it meant. But then he smiled slightly. “I believe you’re right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand then there was 15 more years of civil war LMAO but to Antony's credit, he did make peace with the conspirators in the immediate aftermath of Caesar's assassination, it just. didn't last long-term


End file.
